


Lockdown

by DementedPixie



Series: Demented Pixie's Buckystuckyfanfic [12]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:07:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24378463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DementedPixie/pseuds/DementedPixie
Summary: How did The Avengers deal with lockdown during a Pandemic?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Demented Pixie's Buckystuckyfanfic [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1264823
Comments: 9
Kudos: 58





	Lockdown

The Avengers were used to change on a daily basis but this time, on their return from their latest mission, the whole world had changed. Really changed. Nick Fury met them off the Quinjet, standing two meters away as he brought them up to date, telling them how New York was on lockdown because of a lethal global pandemic and that they were all, as of now, confined to quarters. 

As the others absorbed the news Thor gave them all a charming smile, swung his hammer, and took off back to Asgard before anyone could reiterate that he really should be staying put. The remaining team breathed a collective sigh before picking up their kit and trudging inside, keeping Fury at regulation distance as they passed by. 

Tony Stark was quickly proved to be the best at handling lockdown. His ability to totally lose track of time when he was entrenched in a project was near legendary. As long as he remembered to eat, drink and sleep occasionally, nobody but Jarvis bothered him. He recalled once missing out on an entire season, as one day he shut his door on autumn leaves only to open it again to see snow. So this lockdown was a piece of cake. He tried to meet with one of the others, usually Bruce, at least once a day but didn’t always manage it. But he was, at least, very happy with his own company. 

Bruce Banner had been on self-enforced social isolation for years, firm in the belief that he was best kept away from other humans wherever possible. He filled his time with a variety of hobbies, meditation, tai chi and yoga being amongst his favourites. And he liked to bake, much to the pleasure of the rest of the Avengers. This particular day it was chocolate chip cookies, and he hummed, happily, to himself as he set about combining the ingredients in a bowl. 

Natasha Romanov liked people in the same way you could say that a research scientist liked rats. She studied her fellow man carefully and in great detail. She kept files and records, and found ways of tracking down the files and records being kept by others. Give Natasha a few weeks of lockdown and she buried herself in data, content to swat up on anyone who might be a potential threat. It’s not to say that’s all she did, of course. She knew the importance of keeping herself fit and toned, spending time every day in the gym or doing laps of the pool. Because if she wasn’t careful Bruce’s cookies were going to make her official uniform even tighter than it currently was, when she finally got around to putting it on again. 

Clint Barton was probably the one who struggled with lockdown the most. On the job, he could happily isolate himself on a rooftop for as long as was needed, or bury himself in an undercover role. But off duty he was a country boy at heart, someone who loved the outdoors and working with his hands. So nobody was the least bit surprised when half way into week one of lockdown Hawkeye started to re-model the bar area of the main common room. The sound of hammering and sawing could be heard as far away as the private apartments, but nobody minded. It kept Clint occupied, fit, and tired enough by nightfall that he was a pussy cat to deal with. 

Of course, everyone thought they knew exactly how Steve Rogers would handle lockdown. That he’d stick absolutely to the rules, take his mandatory period of exercise, run precisely as far as he was allowed while wearing a protective mask and keep exactly 2 metres away from everyone else while he isolated himself in Avengers Headquarters. 

Well everyone was wrong. 

“Rain doesn’t smell the same,” said Steve. “Have you noticed that? I’m not saying it was sweet back then, far from it. But now, when it rains, it evaporates on the asphalt and smells… different, somehow.”

“Yeah?” replied Bucky.

Steve looked up from the desk, where a mess of paints, pencils, drawing pads and art materials surrounded him in a dishevelled heap. 

“And it’s really hard to draw.”

Bucky had begged a yoga mat from Bruce and was busy concentrating on his breathing as he stretched his body into the warrior pose. 

“What is?”

“Rain!”

“Oh.” Bucky expelled a breath of air and returned to standing upright, planting his feet firmly on the mat. “Why don’t you just get the paper wet?”

Steve stared at him for a moment or two, as if he’d just said the stupidest thing he’d ever heard, before realisation suddenly dawned on him.

“That’s not a bad idea.” 

He picked up the glass containing the remains of Bucky’s apple juice, dipped his fingers in, and flicked them at the paper. 

Bucky leaned forward and folded himself in half, pressing his face to his knees. “Did it work?” he asked, his voice slightly muffled. 

“Yeah, maybe it did,” replied Steve, contemplating the effect as he pushed the apple juice around the paper with his brush. “Smells of apples, though.” 

“No shit, Captain Obvious.”

“Are you guys decent? Oh Jesus, really?!” Bruce appeared in the doorway of Steve’s apartment, holding a plate stacked with cookies. “Could you find any shorter shorts?”

Bucky returned to a standing position, half turning away to peer down at his black lycra. 

“They’re very comfortable,” he said, pulling at the fabric and letting it ping back into place. 

“I’m sure,” agreed Bruce, averting his eyes away from the expanse of muscle on display as he walked over to Steve with the cookies. Unable to find a clear space on the desk he simply plonked the plate down on top of the nearest sketch pad. 

He took a few moments to assess his friend, taking in Steve’s overgrown lockdown hair and how his beard had gone way past the soft and fluffy stage. He was wearing a purple, silk, kimono style robe, tied loosely around his waist. And he looked incredibly relaxed and happy, his expression soft every time he looked at Bucky. Which was all the time.

“Looks like lockdown suits you,” Bruce commented, with a kindly smile. 

Steve gazed up at him, looking younger than Bruce had ever seen him. 

“It’s the best time of my life,” he admitted, softly.

“I’m happy for you, Steve,” replied Bruce. 

“Can you believe this? They just announced another God damn three weeks!” Clint flounced into the room and hurled himself onto a vacant love seat as if his entire world had just ended. 

“Oh really,” asked Bucky, raising his eyebrows in feigned horror. He wandered over to the desk, picked up one of the cookies and shoved the whole thing in his mouth, which meant the rest of what he wanted to say came out as a messy mumble. “How terrible.”

“Terrible,” agreed Steve, with the smile of a man who has just been given the best gift he could ever have wished for. 

Because that’s exactly what it was.


End file.
